Why Do Beasts Lack Social Skills?!

Primrose woke up in an absolutely foul mood.

And no, it wasn't because she hadn't slept—well, okay, maybe that was part of it—but mostly because she had spent three goddamn hours trying to deal with her own unrelenting horniness.

Three. Whole. Hours.

How was this even possible?

She had never been this desperate before. Never.

And now? Her poor fingers were completely numb.

She let out a long, suffering sigh.

And the worst part? She still wasn't satisfied.

No matter how much she tried, it wasn't enough. She needed something more than just her fingers.

This was all that damn beast's fault. He had to take responsibility!

… Wait.

Didn't they have to meet today?

If she remembered correctly, her lady-in-waiting would come any moment now to escort her to breakfast with the Lycan King.

But back then, the moment she sat down in the dining room, Edmund stood up and left.

Just like that.

As if he couldn't stand being in the same room as her.

Primrose sat there, frozen, as a dozen disdainful stares bore down on her.

The soldiers. The maids.

All of them looked at her with thinly veiled disgust.

Even though Primrose hadn't been able to hear their thoughts in her first life, she had always been able to guess what they were thinking.

'The king must truly despise her.'

'He doesn't even want to eat with her.'

'She's such a disgrace to the throne.'

At first, she thought maybe Edmund really had something urgent to attend to.

But the next day? The same thing happened.

And the day after that.

He never showed up whenever she was in the dining room.

Eventually, she gave up.

It was easier to just take her meals in her bedroom than to sit there and endure the whispers and stares, feeling like an unwanted guest in her own home.

The beasts hated her.

She could see it in their eyes.

Therefore, she hesitated to leave her room now.

She just didn't want to go through that shitty experience again.

She sighed, rubbing her temples.

But as much as she wanted to avoid them all, she didn't have that luxury.

If she ignored Edmund's invitation to breakfast today, people would lose whatever little respect they had left for her.

But …

Edmund had marked her on their wedding night, so maybe the result would be different this time!

Primrose stood on her bed and laughed at herself like a lunatic. "Fuck you, beasts! Your King has marked me!"

Then, she jumped off the bed and rushed to the mirror. Lifting her hair, she traced her fingers over the spot where his teeth had sunk into her skin.

"Oh … that's weird."

She had expected to feel a wound, maybe a raised scar or at least some roughness. But there was nothing.

Instead, the mark looked clean, and smooth, almost like a tattoo.

So, the rumors were true. The Lycan King's saliva really could heal wounds in an instant.

"Your Majesty, I'm here to help you bathe and change your clothes."

Leah's voice came from outside the door, calm and professional as always.

Before Primrose could even respond, she had already stepped inside.

[Let's see … did His Majesty actually mark this weak creature?]

Creature?!

Seriously?!

Primrose's brows twitched, but she kept her expression neutral. Was she not even considered human to her anymore?

Oh, she was definitely sending this bitch to the dungeon.

[How dare she act all high and mighty last night? She's nothing but a lowly human. I bet His Majesty refused to mark her.]

Leah didn't even flinch as those thoughts passed through her mind. Her face was composed, her demeanor as polished as ever—such a professional, talking absolute trash in her head while maintaining a perfect poker face.

Not a hint of irritation, not even a slight shift in her expression, despite being thrown out the night before.

Well. If Leah wanted to pretend nothing had happened, Primrose could play that game, too.

"Lady Leah …" she murmured sweetly, tilting her head like a delicate, innocent human. "Would you mind taking a look at my neck?"

Primrose turned her back to Leah. "His Majesty bit my neck so hard last night, so I wonder … is my skin wounded?"

The silence that followed was deafening.

[H-how is this possible?!]

[No … there's no way His Majesty actually marked this pathetic little bitch!]

[B-but that's definitely a Lycan's mark! And she reeks of His Majesty's scent now!]

Primrose lowered her head slightly and took a discreet sniff of her own skin.

Nothing.

No foreign scent, no lingering trace of Edmund. Just her own natural scent.

It seemed only beasts had the ability to detect a person's scent with such precision.

"It's not just an ordinary bite, Your Majesty." Leah's voice remained perfectly even, but there was a hint of jealousy in the way she spoke. "You've been marked by His Majesty the King."

Primrose widened her eyes in feigned shock. "Marked? What does that mean? Is that … a good thing?"

[Is she an idiot? How could she not know anything about Lycans?]

[She should've at least studied her husband's race if she wanted to play the role of his wife properly.]

"Yes, Your Majesty. The mark is proof that His Majesty has owned you." Leah let go of Primrose's hair, her fingers twitching slightly before she forced herself to step back. "From now on, you belong to him, and it is your duty to serve him."

What an absolute load of bullshit.

If Primrose hadn't already known the truth behind a Lycan's mark, she might've actually believed Leah and mistaken it for some kind of slave branding.

Ownership, my ass.

According to Lycan history, the mark wasn't meant to be a symbol of control—it was a bond. 

A connection between protector and protected, between a mate and their fated partner.

At least, that was what it was supposed to be.

In reality, too many Lycans twisted its meaning to suit their own selfish desires.

Some Dominant Lycans—the ones who had the power to give the mark—treated their mates like property.

Instead of protecting them, they became the very thing their mates needed protection from.

The irony was almost laughable.

Which principle Edmund followed was a mystery.

Primrose never felt like he had protected her, not even until the bitter end. But to say he treated her like a slave? That wasn't exactly right either.

If she had to put it into words … he had simply avoided her. Like she was nothing. Like she didn't exist in his world.

"I see," Primrose murmured. "I'll do my best to serve him …."

Breakfast would be served at nine o'clock, which meant she had two hours to bathe, do her makeup, and get buried alive in layers of fabric.

Honestly? She didn't need to be dressed to the nines just for breakfast.

But she was the Queen of Noctvaris now. She had a reputation to uphold.

By the time she finally stepped out of her room, her heart felt like a rock sitting in her chest.

Here we go. She had already prepared herself for the worst, the cruel thoughts of the soldiers and servants watching her every move.

[Oh, dear … our Queen looks so beautiful this morning.]

… Huh?

Primrose blinked, frowning slightly.

She hadn't expected anyone to actually say something nice.

Back then, no one had ever complimented her looks or the way she dressed. People had only ever stared at her with cold, judgmental eyes.

Well, maybe there was only one person who praised her.

 [This kingdom doesn't deserve a queen as beautiful as her!]

What the actual fuck.

[Wait … did His Majesty really mark her?]

Primrose had deliberately styled her hair up, fully exposing the Lycan King's mark on the back of her neck.

She knew they could already smell Edmund's scent on her, but what was the point of having a trophy if she wasn't going to flaunt it?

Look at this mark carefully, you beasts!

[But she's human …]

Her jaw tightened, and she clenched her fists at the thought that echoed in their minds.

At the end of the day, it didn't matter. They were always going to despise her for being human. Whether she was marked or not.

[She's just a human. How could she possibly handle His Majesty?!]

[Oh, my poor Queen, she must have suffered last night.]

[She's trying so hard to walk properly after what happened.]

[His Majesty should have been more considerate! After marking her, he should've had breakfast in her chamber instead of making her come all the way to the dining room!]

[OUR QUEEN IS TOO PRECIOUS FOR HIS MAJESTY.]

Primrose nearly choked on air.

Their thoughts didn't sound like the bitter, hateful whispers she had been expecting.

Her gaze swept across the room, looking at their cold and unreadable expressions of the beasts around her.

Their faces told one story, but their minds …

[Why does the Queen look so confused? No … maybe she's scared of us?]

[I want to talk to her, but I should keep my distance. What if she's frightened?]

Scared?!

Since when?!

Weren't they supposed to think like Leah? Weren't they supposed to want her gone?

Was this why they had always kept their distance? Because they thought she was afraid of them?

How ridiculous.

What the fuck is wrong with these beasts?

Had none of them ever learned basic social skills?!

But then again … not all of them seemed to be on her side.

[Tch, why do I have to serve a human?]

[I hope she runs away and never comes back.]

Ah, there it was.

Not all of them saw her as some precious queen to be protected. Some of them still saw her as nothing more than an intruder.

She would be naive to think those beasts would ever truly accept her.